Chapter 7- A Medic In The Field

The expedition was large enough that most minor wasteland hazards simply avoided them. Tian would normally welcome that, but now his skin felt like it was on too tight. The protective suit stifled him. Especially the face covering- the soft fabric hadn’t been a problem before, but today something was wrong with it and it was choking him.

Cultivate. You haven’t in days. I know you aren’t in the mood, but you will feel better. Just breathe. Let your vital energy cycle through you, and focus on the breathing. You can switch to Counter-Jumper and Light Body in a little while. For now, just enjoy the fact that a big squad means fewer ambushes and cultivate.

Tian blew out a long breath. Cultivating did relax him and, he had noticed, made him both more calm and more energized. He inhaled long and slow, then started the cycle. He nearly stopped it again when he felt his body absorb the tainted qi in the air almost effortlessly. All that earth qi and fire qi were pulled apart, purified, and sent into his meridians with an almost disrespectful ease. He didn’t dare ask Grandpa Jun what was happening, but based on the cackling, Grandpa had him figured out.

You have been doing your best to pretend the Hell Suppressing Sutra doesn’t exist, but it does and it’s had about a month to work on you. It’s not at the level where you can just ignore the poisonous qi on your own, but after the filtration by the suit, what’s left is no problem. As for what exactly it is doing? The yin part of the arts is absorbing the earth and fire qi and dissolving it into a more pure, elementally neutral form of qi. The yang part is taking that dissolved qi and hauling it through your meridians. And if you remember, those Lotus Meridians of yours already have a minor filtering effect on chaotic qi.

Grandpa Jun chuckled. You aren’t ignoring the poison qi, you are accepting it, suppressing it and refining it. Told you it was a good sutra.

Tian almost wanted to laugh. It was so damn unreasonable. The Heavenly Person heretic had presumably found the statue with the sutra on it when they were out adventuring, or when they had killed someone else who had discovered it. They knew it was valuable, that it was an opportunity, but they never figured out how to use it. Then the old monster was ninety nine parts killed by a Direct Disciple, finished off and looted by Tian, and only then were the secrets of the statue finally cracked by the unreasonable abilities of Grandpa Jun. And while Grandpa Jun didn’t know everything, he did know far, far more than anyone else Tian had met.

He sometimes wondered what it would be like if Grandpa didn’t have to constantly scrape together every little shred of energy. Tian would probably be at the Above Heavenly Person level, whatever that was. Maybe he would have his own sky barge, or a flying sword.

Tian let his breathing flow in a seamless cycle, feeling the vital energy flowing through his body, strengthening and nourishing him. Just focusing on the breathing, then letting his eyes keep a watch over the wasteland, and letting his body do the moving. The hours passed, and the miles vanished under their feet. He fell into a state of indifference. He moved when the sister ahead of him moved, stopped when she stopped, and let the thought fly across his mind like birds through a blue sky. They would pass, and the sky would remain.

The sister in front of him stopped suddenly. Tian matched her, then looked around to figure out why she had stopped. A scout had returned. His hands flashed- enemy, ten, southwest, two miles. Tian observed the landscape. No handy fissures to hide in, and after last time, he didn’t really want to risk it. He supposed it would depend on where the seniors decided to set the ambush.

The immediate area was not promising. Flat stretches of ocher rock rising out of the red sands, then sinking back down again. There was the occasional scrub bush, none more than shin high, and all more twig than leaf. A mouse might hide behind one, but nothing bigger. On the other hand, anyone with even half an ounce of sense would be extra alert any place suitable for ambushes, so he didn’t know how to solve that puzzle.

The answer turned out to be a lot simpler, and harder, than Tian had imagined- “Lie down and don’t move.”

Tian had another sudden flashback to the garbage dump and his games with Grandpa. Shape, shine, color and shadow. Ideally you want to conceal your smell too, but that’s a more advanced lesson. The other key is movement. If you are hiding, you must remain very, very still. Still like a mouse. As long as you are still and you get those other things right, whether it’s predator or prey, they can look right at you and not see a thing.

It seemed the senior brothers and sisters got the same lesson. They lay themselves along the little rises of stone and seemed to merge into it. The little shrubs and their twisting shadows broke up the cultivators’ lines and contours. Simplest of all were the protective suits. The treated silk and linen were a rusty brown color. Not an exact match for the nearby rock, but when they lay down next to it, it became remarkably hard to spot the difference.

Tian did what his brothers and sisters did, wiggling himself into the ground a little bit so that the sand covered him slightly. Not enough to bury him, just enough to blur his shape. Tian closed his eyes and switched over to Counter-Jumper. Three Nights Hwang had urged him to focus on vibration sensing because while the range was short, you could sense things in the dark, under water, or coming at you through the earth. You might only get a single second’s warning, but it was better than no warning at all.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

He lay there, taking long, slow breaths. Trying to breathe as the wind moved. Letting his body vanish into the sands. The feeling Counter-Jumper gave him was so odd- like his skin was much larger than it actually was. Usually he was running while it was active, and the skin sensations took a long distant third place to his eyes and ears. The only vibration he could feel running was the wind and the shock of his feet against the sand.

Tian could feel the breeze as it tickled the desert. He could feel the creaking rocks as they warmed. Feel the little insects crawling through the sand, hiding from predators and the sun alike.

Now that he thought about it, the scorpions tended to be black or brown and preferred the shade of big rocks when they weren’t buried in the sand. Were they like him? Waiting for the vibrations of prey? He breathed in, out, in, slowly out again. Trying to forget himself. Trying to forget the black mass of hate bubbling and thickening in his chest. Just breathing and feeling the wasteland.

The vibrations were subtle at first, lost in the wind and shifting sands. A too-regular tap-tap-tap on his senses. Then the taps became thuds. He couldn’t hear them, but he could feel their steps. They must be moving silently through some charm or spell.